The Mad Scientist and Her Assistant
by Empress of Everything
Summary: She was his scientist, he was her assistant. He kept her grounded, she showed him bits of her world, the mad mad world lurking in her brain, begging to be released. He was her 'person'. She was his best friend. Neither could do without the other and they didn't want to find out what that would be like. After all, every mad scientist needed an assistant, right?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** _I blame **apriiil** for this one. All the conversations we've been having about BixLu forced me to write this. Here's my first BixLu story, doll. And yes, Lucy is modeled a bit after Tony Stark /Jane Foster with Bix as her Darcy._

 _ETA: I updated this in anticipation of the new chapter. Just some minor things like wording or italics. Enjoy!_

* * *

Some days it's the little things.

"BIXLOW! I can't find my glasses!"

"They're on your head, Lucy, most likely snarled in your bun."

"Oh. Thank you."

"No problem."

"Lucy, were you looking for this?"

"Yes I was, I needed a Sharpie about ten minutes ago. How did you know?"

"Because you asked me to find you one?"

"…I did?"

"Okaaaay, that's enough Science for one day."

"No! Bix! You can't take the Science away from me! I'm in the middle of an experiment!"

"No. Bedtime for Lucy."

Some days it's the medium things.

"Did you remember to order hydrochloric acid, pop guns, chicken feed, and glitter?"

"Lucy, I think ordering coffee is a bit more of a priority."

" _How did you let it get like this. Don't you know I can't function without coffee? You are literally the worst assistant in the world._ "

"Here. I got you Starbucks. Extra large, extra hot, six shot peppermint mocha with whip cream."

" _I love you._ "

"Lucy, the printer's jammed."

"I'll check it out in a minute. It needed to be modified anyway."

"No. You are not allowed to modify mechanical devices. Do you remember what happened the last time you tried? The waffle maker that nearly took Gajeel's hand off?"

"Oh he had it coming."

"Freed had to kill it with a _sword_."

"So?"

"You're hopeless."

He wasn't quite sure where replacing the water in the coffee pot with RedBull rated on the ' _this is sort of a scientist emergency but I'm not sure how severe so let's just see what happens and rate it later_ ' scale, but the aftermath had been pretty messy to clean up.

The images of his scientist hopping about, chattering away a mile a minutes while attempting to simultaneously walk on the ceiling and cook dinner, which has consisted of leeks, sriracha sauce, squid ink, and leftovers that he thought he had disposed of three weeks ago, would never, ever leave him. Natsu and Sting had been banished from the lab ( _and access to the coffee maker_ ) for almost a month until they could talk themselves back into Bixlow's good graces. Lucy had been banned from RedBull after that as well.

Actually, he'd already suspended her RedBull privileges after he found out, not long after starting to work for her, that all the blonde scientist had subsisted on was RedBull, Chinese takeout, and 5 gallon drums of coffee so strong it could knock a dragon out, for the past seven years since college graduation ( _and no doubt all through college_ ). No wonder she'd been so thin when they first met. Well, met again.

When Bixlow compared to how she'd looked when he started working as her assistant ( _thin, pale, undernourished, looked like death warmed over, massive dark circles like bruises under eyes, glasses constantly missing, a perpetually startled and crazed look in her eyes_ ) to how she looked now ( _with a weight gain of almost twenty much needed pounds, rosy cheeked, dark circles gone unless she was Sciencing nonstop, and a calmer air about her_ ), he couldn't help but be proud that he'd managed to tame the unruly and insane woman. It helped him deal with her unusual ideas that cropped up on a weekly/daily basis.

But they never spoke of the Weasel Incident, not even at parties. ( _"I'll admit that some times I can be a little irrational," "Sometimes?" "But I'm going to have to ask you to trust me when I say that weasel has to go in the oven." "Lucy. No. Just no." "Bix! You're restricting my Sciencing!" "LUCY! I'm not having animal protective services called on us again!"_ )

He didn't like leaving his scientist. Everyone knew that. They also knew how much trouble Lucy could get into without her wrangler. After all, it was his job to keep her fed, watered, and get her out among actual people on a weekly basis. Contrary to what she might think, Lucy could not live on Science alone. Even leaving her with the GATE AI system she had designed out of sheer boredom one day make him uneasy. It's not that he didn't trust the AI. He actually rather liked the dominant personality, a flirty yet somehow steady fellow affectionately named Loke by his creator. And yes, Lucy had created a multiple personality AI. One with ten personalities to be exact.

He...learned not to ask about the ideas she came up with while trying to sleep and failing.

He knew a lot about his scientist. After working for her for two weeks, he'd already picked up on some things. Now, two years later, he could probably write the Mad Scientist Guidebook For Exasperated Assistants. He'd actually considered it a time or two…

She could play semi-okay with other scientists if she had to and they didn't mess up the very, very delicate balance of her chaotic lab.

Her brother was sometimes allowed in her lab, but he was to be brained with a fire extinguisher if he went toward anything that could be turned explosive.

Which was pretty much everything in the lab. He got brained a lot.

Her favorite of the other scientists in her little group of people she tolerated was the calm, steady Jellal. The two could sit and talk for days about stars and the Galaxy. He'd kept track one time and they only stopped to eat and go to the bathroom when they discussed planetary alignment for 49 3/7 consecutive hours. But Lucy hadn't blown anything up, set her hair on fire, or cried in that whole time, so he counted it as a win. There had been some threatening gestures with Sharpies, but nothing too _too_ bad.

There was a running list of things Lucy was not allowed to buy. If she made a move to order things like C4, printer cartridges, fuses,

If she started screaming out of the blue, she usually wasn't in pain or being attached. It was an indicator that an experiment had gone wrong or not how she planned.

If she was hurt, like she cut her hand for example, Lucy normally treated injuries as something to be studied. Or an impediment to Science. She never screamed if she was hurt. She would just stare at the injury and make assessing comments. That had freaking him out when he was new to Lucydom. She could be gushing blood and she'd be trying to figure out the answer to a complicated physics theory before even noticing. Now, he just kept a closer eye on her when she was wielding sharp implements.

"Bix, can you get me the super glue? I cut my hand again and there's a timer I need to watch. Otherwise we'll be evacuating the lab again."

"Lucy, that's the sixth time you've said that this morning."

He drew the line at not treating the results of acid experiments right away, however. She was sturdier than she looked but his heart and the growing amount gray hairs on his head could only take so much.

She literally _could not_ function without her glasses, coffee, the loud strains of Bach, Mozart, and Green Day, and someone to talk at.

If she got bored, ( _which was NEVER allowed_ ), she started randomly mixing together liquids, inaverdentally creating new chemical compounds of varying levels . He had taken to hiding the bleach and making Loke swear not to tell her where it was hidden.

Some days he felt like a babysitter to a hyperactive, genius level toddler with no filter between her brain and her mouth. Having to explain to a 26 year old woman with seven degrees in four different sciences that cranberry sauce, stale cookies, and baked beans weren't a real meal should have been listed in the job description.

Going out into public was an ordeal for both scientist and assistant. Lucy was treated like a freak among other sciency people. He had to shield her from the stares, the mocking whispers, and the hateful comments. Lucy had no social graces to speak of, none at all. Well, she could eat in public, a small victory, but that was about it.

And why would she? She'd gone from reclusive heiress to reclusive genius college student to reclusive genius billionaire with few friends, living alone in a tower. Taken out of her lab away from her beloved Science, she became painfully shy and nervous around people. She did need to be dragged outside every once in awhile. Bixlow tried to make up for her obvious fear by minimizing their outside interactions to places she could think, places with sunlight, and places with children. Parks were usually the best option. There she could get actual light on her deathly pale skin, the fresh air was good for clearing away cobwebs, and she could people watch.

Lucy really did love kids. She said their minds were refreshing and they were more open to her wackadoodle theories than most adults outside her little circle of 'her people'.

He'd once come upon her on a rare outing having a long, animated conversation with a seven year old on whether or not Fairies had tails. They completely skipped by the fact that Fairies probably didn't exist and were debating their physical characteristics. Lucy wasn't too sure but the little boy assured her that of course Fairies would have tails, because "how else were they supposed to keep their balance as they flew?" Lucy had lit up like a Christmas tree and thanked the little boy. As she and Bixlow headed home, she had told him that she was going to have Capricorn (a sub GATE AI) start a world wide search for Fairies.

Another reason he hated going out in public: he had to carry a bag. The one Lucy had made and given him so gleefully he couldn't refuse her starry eyes. It was purple. He liked purple. That wasn't the problem. The bag itself was very nice, sturdy, and perfect for hauling her stuff around.

She had sewn sequins in fanciful patterns all over it. _That_ was the problem. Gajeel and Laxus had given him _so_ much flack for carrying a sparkly man purse, he'd nearly stopped carrying it. Then Lucy had shown him how special the bag was. Somehow ( _he really didn't need nor want to know how_ ) she'd equipped the bag with a different dimension storage...thing. She called it Requip tech and it was the first prototype. As it turns out, the Requip bag was the best present she could've given him.

Scientists generated a lot of…stuff ( _well, his scientist did_ ), stuff he had to carry around in case she needed something and needed it _right then, give me the spoon BIXLOW or things are going to go boom._

At last check, he had a box of thumb tacks, sixteen spoons, chewing gum, crayons and paper ( _being the toddler she was sometimes, give her paper and something to write with and Lucy would be occupied for hours_ ), a hand grenade she had picked up from Jackal, an address book, a map ( _the woman could not walk in a straight line to save her life_ ), train passes, two unopened boxes of instant Jello, strawberry flavored, wires, coils, springs, tweezers, pliers, a small computer, two phones ( _both his, since Lucy couldn't be trusted with a phone_ ), rubber bands, a full set of screwdrivers, a Swiss Army knife, glitter ( _SO MUCH GLITTER, it was like she had an addiction to the stuff_ ), glue, and 39 books all shoved into his marvelous bag. He thought she might've stuck a stray cat in there a few days ago, but he'd checked and there hadn't been one. He needed to find out where that went before they got ASPCA called on them _again_.

The guys had stopped giving him a hard time about the bag after they'd seen Lucy pull out tweezers, three spoons, chicken feathers, two encyclopedias, rubber bands, glitter, and an iPod and build a working RC helicopter in the middle of a guys' night. When Laxus began insisting that it wasn't possible for such a small bag to hold so much, Lucy had turned her head and given him the most deadpan stare in the history of deadpan stares, held it for five minutes without blinking, then went back to playing with her helicopter.

Bixlow had just shrugged as if to say, 'that's Lucy for you'.

She was his scientist, he was her assistant. He kept her grounded, she showed him bits of her world, the mad mad world lurking in her brain, begging to be released.

He was her 'person'. She was his best friend.

Neither could do without the other and they didn't want to find out what that would be like.

After all, every mad scientist needed an assistant, right?


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N:** AFTER TWO YEARS I'M FINALLY UPDATING THIS STORY IT'S ABOUT FUCKING TIME ON TO THE NEW CHAPTER. LET'S DO THIS, BUCKLE UP BITCHES. _

_April, my dearest, this is for you, you BixLu addict. It was supposed to be your b-day present but you know things happen. Love ya boo._

* * *

 _Wanted: Temporary intern/assistant for quiet, high-needs scientist. Must have experience in the scientific fields of engineering, chemistry, physics, or nanotechnology. Must have flexible hours, good interpersonal skills, some skill with cooking nutritious food, and a high tolerance for bullshit. If interested, please come to the Konzern Tower, 38th floor, on January 8th._

Bixlow smoothed the paper Evergreen had unceremoniously shoved under his nose. "You need a job, right?" Ever gestured to the paper grandly, as if it would solve all of Bixlow's problems. And in a way, it might.

If the paper wasn't advertising a job as an assistant for a _certified madman_.

"Ever, while I appreciate the effort you put into this and you thinking of me when seeing the job posting, why on _earth_ would I want a job as an assistant to a mad scientist?"

Evergreen sniffed. "Beggars can't be choosers, Bixlow. You need a job and with your skill set and double degree in physics and engineering, you're a perfect fit." She lifted one hand, beginning to count off points on her fingers. "You're a good cook, you have flexible hours, and if anyone can deal with bullshit, it's you. After all the hell we put you through in high school, you can handle anything."

He did grin slightly, thinking about high school. He hadn't realized just how cliquish he, Evergreen, Freed, and Laxus had been until years distant. Though their self-appointed name of the Raijinshuu should've been sort of a giveaway that they weren't all that social. Surprisingly, out of the entire group, Bixlow had been the calmest, steadiest one.

"Ok, fine. I'll apply for the job."

Evergreen sat back, smug as a cat who'd got the cream. "Now what do you say?"

"Thank you, Evergreen," Bixlow dutifully chimed back to her.

"Good boy. Now shut up and drink your coffee."

* * *

"You've got to be kidding me."

Staring up at the Heartfilia Konzern Tower was the most terrifying moment of Bixlow's life. If there had ever been a building in Magnolia that screamed 'obscene wealth and privilege', it was the Konzern. Owned by the Heartfilia siblings Lucy and Jackal, the Konzern was the leader in tech production

And he was thinking about applying for a job here.

Was it too late to back out? Would Evergreen find out he'd bailed? Probably. Would she kill him? Most likely.

"Mr. Själ?" A pretty young woman smiled at him, practiced and calm. She'd been watching the man for a few minutes, seeing how he fiddled with his tie, reran a hand through his spiky hair, checked the time on his phone, paced and muttered and fretted. She finally took pity on him. "You can go on up now."

Well, there was no turning back now.

Once up on the level indicated on the job flyer, it wasn't hard to find where he was supposed to go.

Bixlow just had to follow the crashing.

The room was a natural disaster, to put it lightly. Table upon table upon table were filled with gutted mechanical items and were stacked upon books with gears and bottles sliding off. There was purple smoke billowing somewhere. Not too sure about that one, it was getting a bit out of control. He jumped when a head of messy blonde hair popped up over a pile of books and papers. The hot pink goggles were a little on the disturbing side, too.

"Hand me that bottle of formaldehyde, would you?" She was looking at him expectantly.

"Uh," Bix looked over the metal table covered in bottles, beakers, and a pot of some purple, bubbling substance on an induction burner. He figured it'd be best to avoid that one. Was this part of the interview? Being able to identify chemicals by sight? "Formaldehyde, formaldehyde, where is it?"

"It should be on the table in a clear bottle with the label. I think it was in the top west corner." A series of clangs and curses followed her shouted clarification. With a sigh, Bixlow began picking through the bottles. Only half of them were labeled in a childish, scribbled hand. Scattered between the various chemicals were empty RedBull cans. As he continued to search for the requested chemical, a gloved hand snuck out of the mess and grabbed another can. Running a quick count of the cans in sight, Bixlow blanched.

"Lady, are you crazy? If you drink any more of these, you're going to give yourself a heart attack!"

"Nooooo! Don't take it away, I need that!"

"Hey Lu, just here to check on your prog...what are you doing."

Of all the crazy things he had seen when walking into his sister's lab, a tall bluenette guy holding a can of RedBull over Lucy's head as she jumped to reach it, her white coat flapping, was probably the strangest. And he'd walked in on her designing and testing chainmail lingerie. _That_ had been awkward.

Jackal groaned. And this was why his sister needed a PA. She needed someone who could keep up with her brain, her organizational system, and someone who'd maybe be able to become a friend to the reclusive billionaire. He coughed lightly to get their attention. Both froze, turning to look at him with identical looks of surprise. Lucy relaxed slightly.

"Oh, Jack. Hi."

Lucy studied the lab interloper with detached, clinical interest. She had to admit, he was a rather handsome man. That blue hair couldn't be natural and what on earth was he thinking with a huge tattoo on his neck like that?

"So Mr….?"

"Själ, Bixlow Själ." He accepted Jackal's outstretched hand with no small amount of trepidation. When he'd come for an interview at the Konzern Tower, he wasn't expecting to run into Jackal Heartfilia, billionaire head of the Heartfilia Konzern and face of the company. He was beginning to realize exactly how in over his head he was getting.

"Mr. Själ, pleasure to meet you." The affable smile on Jackal's face wasn't fake; he genuinely seemed pleased to meet Bixlow. "So far, I think you're the only one Lucy hasn't scared away."

"Scared away?"

"The only what?"

Jackal's face twisted in confusion then exasperated horror. "You know, job interviews? For a personal assistant or intern? Doesn't this ring a bell, Lu? We talked about this. It's been on your schedule for weeks now."

"That's the whole reason I'm here," Bixlow said, raising his hand. Lucy glanced between her brother and Bixlow.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Jack," she said bluntly. Her brother crumpled in on himself in despair. Lucy nudged him with a booted toe, raising an eyebrow at his dramatics. She shot a look at Bixlow as if to say 'can you believe this guy?'

Trying to hide his amusement at the antics of these billionaires, who were surprisingly human, Bixlow tapped a finger on his chin. "So," he wondered aloud. "What happened to the other applicants?"

She shrugged. "They didn't want to help me find things and tried insisting that I actually pay attention to them. As if," Lucy scoffed, derision in her tone. "Science is obviously more important."

Idly, Bixlow wondered if this was what love was like.


End file.
